


Shatter

by myaami



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Canon Divergence, First Trial Motive, Fix-It, Identity, M/M, Post-Game Implications, SaiOu Winter Exchange 2019, spoilers for entire game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23036182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myaami/pseuds/myaami
Summary: “Well. I’m not going to abandon you now,” Ouma says, and lets the matter drop. “Besides,” he reaches out to still Saihara’s fingers. “This is better than us killing each other. Right?”There’s no blonde hair waiting for Saihara when he tumbles out of his locker. No one with a kind smile to keep him calm and grounded. Only suspicion and the killing game, until Ouma shows up in the library vent and Saihara fills him in on his plan. Monokuma’s countdown ends, but the truth beyond the time limit is hard to accept.
Relationships: Oma Kokichi & Saihara Shuichi, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 162
Collections: Quality Fics, SaiOu Winter Exchange 2019





	Shatter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eeveepkmnfan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeveepkmnfan/gifts).



> My SaiOu Winter Exchange piece for eeveepkmnfan! I selected your canon divergence prompt exploring if Saihara met Shinguuji instead of Akamatsu at the beginning. I had a lot of fun brainstorming what could happen from there, and I hope you enjoy my interpretation! <3
> 
> Thank you to the Saiou Au mods for hosting this exchange, and also a big thanks to Nooty for the beta read!

* * *

_Name. School. Family. Likes. Novels. Research. Laboratory. Name. Poison. Likes. Mystery. Detective—_

_Move, if you want to survive—_

There’s no blonde hair waiting for Saihara when he tumbles out of his locker. No one with a kind smile to keep him calm and grounded. Not that he was expecting it; frankly he doesn’t know what he should be expecting, so he screams into the face of the man with a raised brow and a black mask who was only kneeling down to help Saihara stand. His questions come faster than introductions, weaving hypotheticals that could have led to their capture and subsequent memory loss.

“You should find the answers to such questions on your own,” the man says when Saihara takes a breath. “And the moment your hopes are shattered? That too, may be beautiful…”

When they step foot outside the building and into the open air, they don’t find his answers, but they do find something: a metal cage stretching high above their heads. Saihara drops to his knees and Shinguuji places a hand on his back in comfort as they realize just how hopeless their situation really is.

* * *

Their escape attempt ended in failure. Even so, taking part in the killing game was a non-starter for them. Monokuma was not happy.

 _If a murder does not occur by nighttime two days from now, then every student forced to participate in this killing game will die,_ he said.

Despite the new motive, Saihara keeps his cards close to the chest; he doesn’t share his knowledge about the hidden door he found in the library. Trusting the wrong person at a time like this might be fatal. Looking around the dining hall, Saihara notices the way some of his classmates retreat in on themselves, or make an effort to connect, to prove that they are not alone. Others, simply watch.

Saihara places his hands on either side of his breakfast plate, closing his eyes and taking a moment to breathe and come to terms with what must be done in order to protect every single person in the room. Though he tries to make himself inconspicuous, he doesn’t miss the way the hair on his neck stands up under someone’s watchful gaze as he slips his hand into his pocket.

* * *

The dust Saihara placed in the card reader the day before is gone. That’s all the confirmation he needs.

He pats his pocket, just to make sure, then studies the arrangement of the shelves in the library, devising the best way to corner and trap the mastermind. At some point during his inspection, a faint banging manifests from within the walls. It grows louder and more irregular, yet gives no sign as to its origin—it’s not in the hallway; Saihara walks around the basement at least twice—until it suddenly stops. The library is silent and unoccupied except for Saihara. Curious, his eyes eventually track upwards.

“Is… someone in there?” He drags the ladder along the bookshelf so it rests beneath a large vent. “Hoshi?” He ventures. “…Yumeno?” Who else is small enough to fit?

_Ah._

Saihara climbs the ladder. “Ouma?”

The vent grate clatters to the ground in acknowledgement. Saihara wobbles a bit, but Ouma is already reaching out to steady him.

“Does Hoshi really seem like the type to crawl around in unusual spaces?” Ouma accuses. “Does Yumeno, for that matter?”

“No, I guess not. But… I can’t think of a reason _you’d_ be here, either.”

Ouma huffs, and if he had more space, Saihara imagines Ouma would be crossing his arms too. Instead, he’s lying on his stomach, dangling his hands out the opening of the vent and playing with the cover of a book. He doesn’t appear comfortable at all, yet it must be a large enough duct if Ouma made it down here from wherever it began.

“So.” Ouma says.

“So…?”

“You wanna move so I can get out? Or do you wanna wait until my legs cramp and you have to carry me down bridal style. Cause I’m fine with either.”

“O-Oh.” Saihara descends, and Ouma squirms out and down, patting his clothes and swatting away the dust that swirls.

“So!” Ouma says again. “I noticed how you thought it was a good idea to run off on your own after Monokuma gave us the time limit motive.” He clasps his hands behind his back and wanders through the room, looking at the shelves, the books, as if trying to figure out what had brought Saihara here of all places. “That’s not a smart move, considering our situation. And so far, you seem like a smart guy, Saihara. Reasonable, even. That’s why I’m thinking… maybe you found something?”

Well, there goes that. Even though Saihara worked hard to keep his hat down and his thoughts to himself, it wasn’t enough. Ouma had been studying the rest of them with practiced precision, focusing his attention on the people he deemed to be of interest.

Of interest, or perhaps, trouble.

“Or maybe,” Ouma goes on, and moves closer to the bookshelf at the back. “Maybe, you came here for a reason. To do something, perhaps.” He tilts his head to the side and touches the unevenness between the shelves in the same way Saihara had when he discovered it. The bookshelf swings open, revealing the black and white secret behind it.

“I found it yesterday,” Saihara says. “I haven’t been able to get inside, but I figured it would cause a panic if I told the others.”

“You don’t say…” Ouma inspects the card reader then turns back to Saihara. “What’s your plan?”

“I don’t have one.”

“That’s obviously a lie.”

He’s not wrong.

“I… was planning to keep watch.” Saihara explains his theory behind Monokuma’s curiously worded motive. ‘Everyone forced to participate in this killing game will die.’ _Forced to participate_. That has to mean something.

“I see. You think one of us is here of our own free will, acting as a mastermind,” Ouma summarizes. “And that they will enter this door to create more Monokumas. Hmm. That’s too bad,” he sighs. “I was really hoping I’d get to play the game a bit before we all died.”

There’s no turning back now. Saihara might as well play along himself.

“You still can,” he says. “If you’re up for a bit of deception.”

Ouma’s lips curl into a smile.

* * *

While Ouma had agreed to the plan, he didn’t go with Saihara to Iruma’s lab. Said it would be too easy for him to get what he wanted, and much more interesting to watch Saihara improvise. The encounter ended with Saihara promising to be Iruma’s test subject on any and all future inventions. Ouma was lurking just outside the door throughout the exchange. Saihara knows this, because a few poorly suppressed snickers gave him away.

With the cameras and motion sensors set up in the library hours before Monokuma’s deadline, all that’s left is to wait. Ouma suggests the room at the top of the stairs, the same one with the vent he crawled through to spy on Saihara. Speaking of…

“Why did you follow me, anyway,” Saihara asks. “If I recall, you were among the people saying we shouldn’t be cooperating with each other.”

“It’s simple, really.” Ouma shifts around in his desk so they’re facing each other. “You were missing something.”

“Missing something?”

“Yeah.”

Saihara can’t begin to comprehend what that could mean. Even Ouma doesn’t look too sure.

“Is it something important?”

Ouma tips his head to the side and carefully lifts the brim of Saihara’s hat. “That’s part of your mystery, isn’t it?”

“My—?”

Saihara’s question and any rational thoughts thereafter are drowned out by the classroom monitor that shudders and begins broadcasting a video with grueling music and visuals. Saihara wants to cover his ears and bury his face in his arms, but Ouma tugs his sleeve and wordlessly points to the door. A group of their peers walk by and descend to the basement. Momota, Amami, and a handful of others who might be capable in a fight.

“Should I check it out?”

“I’ll do it,” Saihara whispers. He follows, slipping a hand into his pocket as a precaution, then watches them file into the game room. The game room. Not the library? Could that be their plan, to give themselves cover by coming down in a group only to sneak away?

Is the mastermind really one of them?

Saihara loosens his grip, and heads back to the classroom.

When he returns, Ouma is gone.

“Ouma?” Saihara checks the vent, but the dust they littered across the ground is still there. Could Ouma have slipped around him somehow?

Was this… all part of another kind of trap?

“I’m right here, Saihara,” a voice says right in his ear, and Saihara jumps with a hand over his heart. Ouma giggles. “Don’t look so scared.” He pulls Saihara’s hat down this time. “Gotta laugh at something just before the world ends, right?”

Saihara knows what this is. It’s a distraction. But, even knowing that… just for a moment, it reminds him of his humanity. Saihara removes his hat and sets it on Ouma’s head, then quickly covers his mouth to hold back a burst of laughter when he notices how red Ouma’s cheeks become.

“Don’t worry,” Saihara reassures. “I’m not laughing at you, Ouma. I’m laughing with you.”

“Good,” Ouma says, working through his blush. “Cause I’d have you join my organization if that were the case.” He turns the hat to the side. “Only trusted people have the privilege of laughing _at_ me.”

 _Trusted._ Saihara touches his pocket and tries not to think too hard about the contradiction in Ouma’s words.

For a while more they’re able to pass the time like this, trading accessories and laughing together, but as the music drags out on repeat with no end in sight except a dreading realization, the talk returns to the present.

“Why the trick with the cameras?” Ouma asks. “Why not lie in wait for the mastermind in the library?”

“We’ll need the evidence,” Saihara rationalizes. “The pictures will be crucial for convincing the others not to play the mastermind’s game.”

“And why not just break the rules?”

“At this point, we don’t know what can bend, and what can break before it pushes the mastermind to their limit.”

“Isn’t that part of the fun of learning a new game?”

Saihara is starting to notice the subtle shifts in Ouma’s tone that indicate when he is and is not actually having fun.

“Anyway, I still don’t see the point of the alarm,” Ouma says. “If they enter the hidden room and create more Monokumas, we’re dead anyway.”

“No. We’ll run down when the motion sensor goes off, which will be right as the door moves. The mastermind won’t have enough time to make the Monokumas before we arrive.”

“And what if they fight back, Saihara?”

The hidden knife weighs heavily in his pocket. His knee bounces up and down, and he taps his fingers on the desk, all a little too quickly. He doesn’t answer.

“Well. I’m not going to abandon you now,” Ouma says, and lets the matter drop. “Besides,” he reaches out to still Saihara’s fingers. “This is better than us killing each other. Right?”

Saihara feels his plans unraveling the longer he spends time with Ouma. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know he doesn’t know; he doesn’t, but…

He turns his hand over, pressing his palm up flat against Ouma’s. “Yeah.”

“Good. Together, we’ll end this killing game. On our terms.”

“H-Hey, Ouma? Um—”

The motion sensor alarm goes off and vibrates on the desk.

“They’re here!” Saihara shouts, and empties the contents of his pocket onto the floor, leaving behind the lies and suspicion, and running forward towards the truth.

The two of them shove their way into the library in time to see Amami lingering by the black and white door.

“Saihara? Ouma?”

“Amami…” Saihara pants. “You’re not… the mastermind, are you?”

“...No. How do you know about the mastermind?”

Ouma squeezes Saihara’s hand.

Saihara was wrong not to trust anyone in the beginning, but trusting Ouma and leaving the knife behind in the classroom was the first step. He takes another, now.

Amami listens with a blank expression as Saihara explains their plot to capture the mastermind with the cameras and motion sensors. And at the end of their story, Amami exchanges information as well. He says he is in possession of a secret monopad with a note that called out the mastermind.

There’s one hour left until everybody dies.

Saihara takes another step. He asks Amami to gather the people in the game room and bring them to the library, while Saihara and Ouma go to the dining hall and dorms to get the rest.

“If we were going to wait alone anyway, we might as well wait together,” Saihara explains when all sixteen are gathered in the library.

“Are you sure, Saihara?” Akamatsu asks. She cradles her backpack in her arms. “Is this really the best thing we can do right now? Is it our only option?”

There’s ten minutes left.

“It’s better than killing one another, isn’t it?”

So they wait. All together in the library, some shaking, others hugging each other, until the video switches over to a live feed of the Monokubs surrounded by dolls on strings. They start to count.

_“Five!”_

Ouma reaches for Saihara’s hand again.

_“Four!”_

Saihara squeezes back and closes his eyes.

_“Three!”_

There’s a shout from across the library.

“What was that? What’s wrong?”

_“Two!”_

“Please calm down!”

Elbows and arms are being thrown, but Saihara can’t tell who’s at the center of the fray.

“I won’t let it end!”

_“One!”_

Someone screams and the lights go out. The world falls silent.

* * *

_We’re not dead._

That’s Saihara’s first thought. He can still feel his heartbeat. Can still feel Ouma’s clammy hand in his, and his own body shaking like a leaf. Being alive is not something he tends to explicitly focus on, but given the circumstances, he’s more than happy to note the obvious.

His second thought, however, is less pleasant.

_What will happen to us now?_

The lights come back on, and Harukawa has Shirogane pinned down on the ground. There’s a knife in Shirogane’s hands. Hoshi knocks it away.

“Uh oh, Shirogane. This doesn’t look good.” Ouma steps away from Saihara and walks forward. “Were you trying to do something unsightly? Something you might regret later?” He kneels in front of her and sneers. “It’s plain to see you’re up to no good.”

Shirogane tries to speak, but fails, and fails when she tries again. Before accusations are thrown faster than they can be caught and countered, Ouma instructs them to bring her to the gymnasium. When Shirogane is standing with her hands bound and fifteen students in various states of anger, confusion, and distress surrounding her, she finally regains control over her voice.

Her words, however, do not make sense.

“Oh dear, this isn’t good at all. Should we start over?” She looks around. “Hey everyone, what should we do next? I know, we could get the dating sim up and running! Would you like that? Sixteen students embarking on a whirlwind romance?”

Shirogane has lost her mind.

“No? That doesn’t pique your interest? Hm. Then I guess I can give you some time to think about it.” She whistles, and inexplicably, the Exisals answer her call, swooping in with their giant arms and collecting a student or two in each hand.

“Is this our punishment?” Ouma demands as he struggles. “For refusing to play your game? For ruining your _fun_?”

“Oh no, that’s very wrong! Punishment is sacred. No, no, this is just a short break until we can figure out what to do next.” Monokuma himself appears and unties her hands. She adjusts her glasses and transforms into someone they’ve never seen before. “That’s what you all wanted, isn’t it? That’s why we’re all still here after the time limit expired. Isn’t that right?”

* * *

There’s no way out.

Figuratively, but literally too, so Saihara lies back on his bed. After the Exisal pushed him inside his bedroom, Shirogane said something about triggering house arrest mode. The door won’t open from his end anymore.

Shirogane is the mastermind. There’s no other explanation for the way she controlled the Exisals and gained Monokuma’s cooperation. No other reason for why she would lock them away, isolated from each other and unable to fulfill the conditions of the killing game Monokuma loves so much. Shirogane tried to kill someone in the moments before the countdown ended, right there in the open. If it had worked, the game would have begun, even though everyone would have known she was the blackened.

The doorknob jiggles. Ouma comes in, pockets his lockpicks and shuts the door, then sits on the edge of Saihara’s bed.

“What does this mean?”

_What does it mean that Shirogane has trapped us in our rooms? That she possibly kidnapped us and placed us in the academy in the first place? That Monokuma and the Exisals listen to her?_

_What does this mean that we’re still alive after the time limit expired, when Monokuma had specified that_ everyone _who was forced into this killing game would die? Shirogane said so herself; they wanted this._

“I don’t know,” Saihara says.

Ouma bites his nail. Saihara sits up and dangles his feet over the edge.

“Were we searching for something?” Ouma doesn’t look at Saihara anymore. His voice is low and distant. Bitter. “And we volunteered to come here and kill each other? Maybe that’s what I noticed missing from you, Saihara. Your _soul_.”

Saihara scoots closer and bumps Ouma’s shoulder, trying to pull him back the way Ouma brought Saihara back before.

“I don’t know,” he says again. “But I don’t think so. We are who we are _now_ , and that’s what matters.”

Ouma tears his gaze away from the floor. “How can you be so sure?" he demands "How can you not question everything we’ve ever done?”

“We haven’t backed away from the truth before. And most importantly, we didn’t give in. Honestly… I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t with me in the classroom, Ouma. That’s the kind of person you are, someone who sees the truth, and acts. And this is the kind of person I am.” Saihara stands and pulls Ouma away from the edge and the fear, opening the door to his room wide, not wanting to hide anymore. Whatever he might be, whatever brought him, and Ouma, and the rest of them here in the first place, they’ll make their stand together.

When Ouma unlocks the final bedroom and all their classmates huddle in the center of the dorms, the loudspeaker chimes and Shirogane’s voice calls to them. “May I have your attention, please! Since things have gotten a little out of hand, I’d like a chance to explain and hold our first and final vote. Come to the courtyard and take the elevator. I’ll be waiting.”

* * *

They descend in silence. By now, everyone has come to the same conclusion: if they’re still alive, and the time limit expired, that must mean they were _not_ forced into participating in the killing game.

In a room of beautifully colored stained glass, Shirogane offers them two, ugly, black and white options.

Option one: Remain.

The world outside is cruel and uncaring, she explains. There’s nothing for any of them out there. They chose to be here, anyway, though she doesn’t elaborate on the details of their arrangement. Shirogane proposes that all sixteen stay in the academy, forever, as planned. They can learn about their pasts, and about each other. Answers can be found here to heal whatever forced them to retreat within these walls in the first place. She calls this option, hope.

Option two: Shatter.

The world outside is cruel and uncaring, Shirogane explains. There’s nothing for any of them out there. They chose to be here, afterall. Shirogane sighs and concedes that she can’t stop them from leaving, but cautions them, saying they will not like what they find. She calls this option, despair.

Remain, or shatter. Hope, or despair.

Saihara fights for information, but Shirogane is tight-lipped. When he argues that she has given them no grounds to trust her and therefore no reason to take part in the vote, Shirogane smiles and looks absolutely delighted.

“Oh Saihara, you want to trust me? Trust goes both ways, of course. Shall I reveal your little secret, hm? Will you still be trustworthy when I tell them about what almost transpired in the basement at the one-hour mark?” Saihara’s heart stops, but Shirogane’s mouth does not. “Taking a picture of the mastermind wasn’t your only plan, was it. You had a knife in your pocket. What were you going to do with it, I wonder? Kill someone in order to escape? My, how selfish.”

“Saihara is _not_ selfish.” Ouma says with a straight face, but gone is his earlier distance, replaced by fury directed at Shirogane. “Saihara wasn’t trying to escape on his own. He was trying to save us.”

“I don’t think they’ll just believe that, Ouma,” Shirogane chuckles. “The moment that murderous thought entered his mind, there’s no going back. He must have always been like this. Wouldn’t you like to know if this is the real Saihara? If we stay here, we can discover if there’s still a path of redemption for our dear detective. We can help him.”

Ouma opens his mouth to speak again, but Ouma has done enough in Saihara’s defense. He’s already saved Saihara’s life and the life of another. Now, it’s Saihara’s turn to save the rest of them. He won’t let Shirogane twist the narrative in her favor anymore.

“No matter who we were before, or what brought us here in the first place, the _us_ standing here in these trial grounds do not want this to continue. We didn’t let it start in the first place, no matter what Monokuma threatened us with. Pushed to our limits, tired and scared, we didn’t do it. We didn’t kill at random. And… And I didn’t do it either. I almost did, but someone saw through me. Saw _to_ me.”

He pauses and clutches his chest. That’s right. Not only did Ouma bring him back, but he noticed his pain and anguish in the first place. If the roles had been reversed… if someone else was plotting a murder beside him… Saihara doesn’t know if he would be strong enough to notice. That failure would haunt him for the rest of his life.

“There’s only one way to end this,” Saihara declares. “Only one way to end this with our hearts and our minds intact. Shatter this pretense and destroy the killing game!”

In the end, their vote is unanimous. Shirogane looks disappointed, but not wholly displeased.

* * *

Shirogane didn’t explain why she called the despair option ‘shatter.’ It turns out, she didn’t have to; they see for themselves.

From their spot in the middle of the courtyard, the sky beyond the cage splits and fractures into hundreds of glass shards, first hovering as if suspended by disbelief itself, then raining down into the space around them. The sky of their broken world is dark. What lies beyond, is a light that’s buzzing with energy and the uncertainty of their future.

Ouma is right beside him as everything they know collapses.

“Do you think this was the right choice, Ouma?” Saihara asks. “Do we want to find out who we once were?”

“You said so yourself, Saihara; we are who we are now. Together, like this. Even when we’re scared.”

The buzzing builds and intensifies and morphs into static, ringing so loudly in Saihara’s ears that sound stops all together. The sky flickers and pixelates and errors, forming blocky red words reading ‘game over’ that fall to the ground, and Saihara’s consciousness falls with them.

* * *

After the simulation is stopped, the Ultimate Detective and Supreme Leader wake up. But, is that true? In reality, they weren’t even…

…No, no. Just because they weren’t _then_ , doesn’t mean they aren’t ultimates at the end of this, right?

Maybe they’re just two talentless boys who were trapped in a killing game that lied about their participation. Maybe there’s another explanation. Regardless, one truth is undeniable: they are survivors who shattered the killing game when the rules said killing was the only way to survive.

The _who_ of the matter, is irrelevant.

Two people once called Saihara Shuichi and Ouma Kokichi wake up and step outside into the world, holding fast to each other and their own identities. They might not know what their future will bring, but for them, it’s enough to know that it’s up to them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! <3
> 
> Shinguuji's dialogue at the beginning is adapted from his first lines in the game, but by the time I wrote that scene, I had already decided on 'Shatter' as the title and plot, so it was perfect!


End file.
